


The Hunter on Baker Street

by taizi



Category: Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 12:09:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1080851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taizi/pseuds/taizi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Who are you?" Sherlock demanded, and when the doctor turned, more slowly than his flatmate had, it was to find himself face to face with furious green eyes and a nickel-plated Colt 1911. The stranger's mouth twisted, and his gun hand never wavered.<br/>"You first."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hunter on Baker Street

There was absolutely no warning, no footfall or snapped twig, before a voice behind them said, "Don't move."

There was also absolutely no mistaking the click that followed, and John very rightly decided _not_ to move. Sherlock, however, had to be an idiot and whirl around, bright eyes searching the darkness behind John in a way that made him uneasy.

"Who are you?" Sherlock demanded, and when doctor turned, more slowly than his flatmate had, it was to find himself face to face with furious green eyes and a nickel-plated Colt 1911. The stranger's mouth twisted, and his gun hand never wavered.

"You first." John blinked for a moment, one part confused and two parts annoyed at how _normal_ it was for them to be held at gunpoint anymore, before he realized the American was responding to Sherlock's earlier demand.

And since Sherlock looked about to answer, and that could only end in certain disaster, John took a step forward, putting his hands out placatingly when the stranger's eyes narrowed on him. "My name's John Watson, and this is Sherlock Holmes."

To his immediate surprise, the young man's brow lifted somewhat, and while the gun didn't go down completely, it was tilted away. "I know that blog."

 _Oh thank_ god _for the blog._ "Precisely," John said with what he hoped was a pleasant smile, "we're not your enemies here, I assure you. We're trying to figure out what's going on with all the people who have disappeared these last few months." When the boy just looked at him, John glanced pointedly at the gun, and after a long moment it was put away.

"So you guys are detectives, and you're out here working the case of the disappearances. At 3 AM?"

Just as John was about to explain the bee that would sometimes get into Sherlock's bonnet at ungodly hours, Sherlock said, "We've told you who we are. Who are you, and why are you out at this hour?"

The calculations were running behind Sherlock's eyes, John could see; and the fact that he didn't have the stranger figured out at the drop of a hat the way he usually did with people had John somewhat intrigued. He should probably be more unsettled, anxious perhaps, than interested, but life with Sherlock had his priorities a little skewed- and in any case, the man before him stood like a soldier.

"Name's Dean Winchester, and I'm here to hunt whatever took my brother from me." 


End file.
